Fan Friction
by Mr. Sinestro
Summary: Shake starts a new career as a fan fiction writer...with horrifying results.


Shake, wearing thick reading glasses and sitting in front of Frylock's computer screen, types on the keyboard.

"…And then Harry Potter realizes he was a cylon all along. At which point he finds that he is incredibly, incredibly attracted to Professor Snape. They end up getting it on. Sexually. Then I end up taking a video of it and blackmailing him online. I end up teaming up with Gandalf and we both end up blackmailing him. At which point I find out that he is incredibly, incredibly unattractive…and then I get it on with his much hotter sister. Sexually. The end."

He takes off the glasses.

"There. It is finished. No. Wait."

He puts his glasses back on.

"dot dot dot…question mark."

He takes off his glasses again.

"Now. It is done."

Frylock floats in.

"What the (duck quack) is going on here?"

"Frylock. I realized something. Life is short. And the only way to make life longer is for people to read stories you put on a website under an anonymous alias."

"No. Why are you on my computer? I have…important files that…"

"Oh. The porn? Yeah. It wasn't very good so I deleted it. I'm a man of higher tastes now."

"Are you…are you writing fan fiction?"

"Fan fact, Frylock. Fan fact. Because it's all happening in my head, which makes it truer than the stuff I watch on The History Channel."

"They had Face-Off on last night."

"Well, we all know that was based on a true story about two men who switched faces…to look like John Travolta and Nicolas Cage."

"Seriously, you got to get off the computer now. I need to get my porn collection back."

"How can I? I already have like 200 reviews on this thing! I'm more popular than writer of the Da Vinci Code and Jesus combined."

"Actually you're slightly more popular than the guy who wrote the Pokemon/Avatar the Last Airbender slash fic."

"Oh. He will soon know that hell hath no fury…like a…like a…bear with rusty chainsaw. With poisoned tips."

Meatwad rolls into the room.

"Oh dang! My fan fic is getting hits."

"Wait. You wrote the slash fic, Meatwad?"

"No. I wrote the one about My Little Pony teaming up with Liza Minelli to save the world from the horrors of the Squidbeast. I even drew a picture about it but I needed it to draw a picture about this cloud I saw."

"Well, well. Looks like I have some competition. Let's read the reviews, shall we?"

Shake clicks the browser.

"'My to year old cuzzin writes better than you. In fact, I puked so hard reading thiz horrible story that I had to by a new compooter.' See? He even wrote better than you! Wait let me read your story out loud to humiliate you more."

He clicks the browser again.

"Hey, Frylock, why don't you get a load of this?"

"No."

"'Liza Minelli hugs My Little Pony. The End.' Where's the conflict? Where's the drama? It clearly is listed as Angst/Drama but I don't see any development here."

"It's like Hemingway, you know…it's like the tip of iceberg lettuce."

"You know, you didn't even get the character of Liza Minelli right. You never go into how she was in Cabaret. You just forget that from the continuity of her character."

Meatwad begins to cry.

"Now see what you've done, Shake? He's probably going to run away again to the toxic waste dump because of this!"

"Yes and he deserves it. How dare he (crashing oil tanker) all over the legacy of My Little Pony with this drivel. If this was canon, I would probably…"  
The doorbell rings.

"I'll continue belittling you after I answer the door. It must be one of my many, many, many anonymous fans."

He opens the door to find a woman standing there.

"Hi. I'm JK Rowling, the creator of Harry Potter. Is this the home of MasterShaker69?"

"Why you're talking with him right now. Hold on a second."

He goes around the corner.

"Fellas! Come here! I have to show you something!"

Frylock and Meatwad come around.

"It's not another dead hooker is it?"

"No! Wait. Look here. Say your name again."

"JK Rowling, the mega celebrity that created the iconic Harry Potter series."

"See!"

"Yeah. So what? How are we sure she came here to praise you?"

"Well, I did come here to praise him. He's the only person ever to get my characters right outside of my own writings. He's added new depths in characterizations I could never really fathom before. He…is the most brilliant mind of the 21st Century."

Frylock and Meatwad stand aghast.

"No (balloon pop) way."

"Ms Rolling, did you read my story about My Little Pony?"

"Yes. It was horrible. I utterly, utterly despised it. For the sake of humanity, you should never write again."

Meatwad tears up a little.

"At least Boxy Brown liked it."

"Oh helll naw! I told you to go with Jackie Brown but who listens to the box? Nobody!"

"But I…I was going to put Jackie Brown in it but she didn't fit with the story."

"Well, I'm here, sucker. Do I fit in THIS story?"

"Um…No…No I don't think so."

"FAN SERVICE MOTHER (frog croaking)"

JK Rowling turns again to Shake.

"Master Shake, I came here to personally invite you to my mansion and have you write stories for millions and millions of dollars."

"Do you provide airfare?"

"Well…no."

"I see. Frylock, I'm selling your computer for plane money."

"Wait? What?"

At JK Rowlings' gigantic mansion, Shake stands in a room with a variety of other people and sips some champagne.

"Now this is the reason why I started writing. Not as a creative outlet but to go to kick ass parties in mansions and hang out with celebrities."

Carl walks up to Shake.

"Carl! What the hell are you doing here? I thought this place was exclusive."

"Yeah, well, I don't know anybody here and…yeah, I have no idea why I came over here to talk with you. I think I'm already loaded off this booze."

"Remind me, when I make money, to buy your pool."

"I'm going to spend my money on getting some super-hot call girls. You know, the ones that aren't listed on Craig's List."

"Your money? I'm the only soon to be billionaire here. Did you run over JK Rowling's dog and you're here to finish the job?"

"Nah. I decided, you know, to start writing my dirty fantasies about Princess Leia getting it on with that Underworld chick. I tell ya, fantasy is an amazing thing. I got like 240 reviews. I think I can take a liking to this."

"If I didn't hock Frylock's computer for a plane ticket and cheap cocaine, I would show you that I have better quality reviews."

"Don't you…think it's kind of suspicious that there are only fan fiction writers here?"

"Don't get off topic here, Carl. I know I'm a better writer. You know why? Because I have legions of fans that brought me here."

"You mean JK Rowling?"

"And by extension all of her fans. She's the alpha female of the group so they will follow whatever she decrees."

"I'm…getting a bit skeeved here. I'm going to…uh…go."

JK Rowling steps out from a gigantic, menacing door.

"Hi. You all must be wondering why I kept you waiting. I brought you brilliant writers here for one reason and one reason only. To process all your brains in this giant blender next to me, drink it, and become the greatest fan fiction writer to ever live."

She rips off her face to reveal a horrifying monster. Carl gapes.

"What…what are you?"

"My handle is HannahMontanaRoxU28. I wrote this fan fiction story about Scooby Doo and Shaggy having sex."

"I remember reading that one. That…that was pretty horrible."

"Yeah. That's why I made this giant blender."

Shake steps forward.  
"Excuse me! I demand to know where the hell JK Rowling went. I want to draw up my contract and I demand to get all of the merchandise rights. I will not give ten percent to some agent who sits on his lazy ass all day."

"There is no JK Rowling, tard. I'm here to put your brain in this blender."

"Well, if there is no JK Rowling, how can you explain how she came up to my door? And knew how great I was?"

"…It was me. I was JK Rowling. Are you that dense?"

"If dense is another word for genius, then yes. I am very, very dense. Now will someone please give me my money now? I'm sick and tired of talking with these show-business phonies."

"…Just get out. I don't want your brain anymore."

"What? You think I'm too good not to get in this giant blender? Well (bicycle horn) you then. I'm getting in anyways."

Shake jumps into the giant blender and blood splatters everywhere.

"Hey. This blender doesn't cut peoples brains out at all. It just sprays blood everywhere."

Carl steps backwards.

"I guess…that means I can go home then."

"Yeah."

Carl begins to walk out but Dave takes out a machete and slices Carl's head open.

"In a body bag! Wow. That's a great line. You know, I didn't need to kill people after all. I really did have the writing spirit in me all along."

She stares at Carl's dead body.

"(clown horn) me, I really should've thought about that when I took out that loan to rent this mansion for tonight and have that specialty company build this giant blender. This machete probably set me back too. Damnit, I wasted too much money on this to stop now."

He starts killing people around the room.

Back the Aqua Teen House, Meatwad and Frylock watch the TV.

"So, you think he dead yet?"

"Probably."


End file.
